


To Kidnap a Cat

by anniespinkhouse



Series: To Kidnap a Cat [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Abuse, Bestiality, Humiliation, M/M, Prostitution, collar and chain, human/were-cat, kidnap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 21:36:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anniespinkhouse/pseuds/anniespinkhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Circus AU.  Jared is an omega were-cat who belongs to the circus. In order to get him out Jensen first has to buy time with him.<br/>{Written for a prompt at spn_otpkink on Live Journal}</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Kidnap a Cat

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is fiction, pure fantasy folks. Nobody here belongs to me and they’re not likely to get in my van for candy any time soon.

 

Kidnap wasn’t something that Jensen made a habit of, but there’s a first time for everything, right?

He wasn’t the type to pay for sex either, but here he was, cash in hand, lurking between the shadows of a Big Top and a row of cages, waiting for a pimp the size of the incredible hulk to appear. He picked nervously at a thread on his shirt and hoped that Jeff was in position. Then he hoped that maybe he wasn’t, because, apparently, this slimeball liked to watch, which meant that Jeff would also have to see. Jensen wasn’t averse to a little exhibitionism, but he liked the full consent of his partner. He wasn’t entirely sure that would be the case this evening, and he couldn’t imagine a way around it.

He sighed. He was ready to make a bolt for it. After all, he and Jeff had been merry with drink last night, when they had taken a short cut through the field the circus was in and chanced on an ‘adult show’ in a side tent. They hadn’t stopped talking about it today, and what they might do, but how drunk had they been? Could they be remembering it correctly, or had it all been costume and performance?

The memory of a young man’s face seemed vivid enough; a mixture of hate, terror and humiliation in desperate eyes as he ran from one side of the ring to the other, between tormentors wielding whips, and rope. The taunts of the crowd and the high pitched sobs and whimpers as he tired still echoed in Jensen’s head, but the lithe grace with which he weaved and dodged, the cat ears which flattened in fear on his head, and the tail which his tormentors grabbed to pull and swing him, must surely have been fake. They had appeared real enough at the time, though.

The rest of it had been convincing enough too, for Jensen to have to hold Jeff back from a crowd seething at his protests. Jeff had been ready to fight, even when grossly outnumbered by huge bouncers and an angry audience.

Before Jensen could change his mind, the hulk reappeared with a torch, and snatched Jensen’s money. It was probably for the best. It was a small amount to pay, to put his mind at ease. He didn’t want his memories to be real, or he would relive them in nightmares for the rest of his life.

What he remembered was the young man’s name, Jared. Tall and handsome, he was revealed as a ‘were-cat’ during the show, and said to be kept in almost-human form by silver implant.

Jensen recalled Jared tormented to exhaustion, until he crawled and begged in submission, was stripped, displayed naked to a baying crowd, and lashed with whips that made him yowl and snarl like an agonized cat. Then worse, he was bent over, ass on display, stretched open and fucked with dildos of ever increasing size, to the crowd that yelled for “more”, while his mouth was stretched wide around a ring gag and stuffed with one cock after another, to silence his objections. A draw was held for the finale, with two winners, to demonstrate the resilience of an omega were-cat’s hole, by fucking him together. Almond shaped eyes stared blankly and tears stained Jared’s face, even before the winners were chosen.

They hadn’t stayed to watch the rest, but they had been sickened by the encouragement and laughter of the crowd, and the advertisement for the cat’s private services, even as Jensen pulled Jeff away from trouble, out of the tent, and over fields back home, to sober up and consider their options.

Back in the present, the hulk was talking at him. Jensen shook himself out of his trance and concentrated on what he was saying.

“Forty minutes. No damage. No talk. No bareback. He scratches, he bites – no lawsuit. Capice?”

Jensen nodded his understanding, “He’s not a kid though?”

The hulk laughed, dark and dirty, “Ain’t nothin’ like human. That’s what brought you back here, right?”

That at least confirmed that there wasn’t a case for child-welfare.

Jensen trailed behind the pimp until they reached a dark trailer behind the cookhouse tent, with canvas covering the door. Behind them, the noise of the shows seemed to diminish and multi-colored lights cast eerie shadows.

The canvas pulled back with a scrape and a key turned in a lock, Jensen almost fell into the trailer with a hefty shove from the hulk. The key turned again and the canvas fell.

“Hey!” Jensen yelled. His heart raced in panic. How would they get out unseen now?

“Forty minutes, unless ya don’t last,” the circus man chuckled.

Jensen steadied his breathing, and looked around.

It was a basic trailer. A lamp diffused soft light, and curtains barely covered a barred window. Jensen thought he saw movement beyond it. That would be where the hulking pimp lurked. There was a door, presumably to a washroom, and then there was a huge bed which filled the space, and Jensen could no longer avoid looking at _it;_ the reason why he was here.

Metal chain rattled and reflected light. Jensen’s gaze followed the line of it, from the wall, to a solid collar, around a neck. A mane of shiny brown hair framed a face, human at first glance, and in that face eyes glowed, tip tilted, like a fox, gold and brown and green and _anxious_. Like a cornered animal, supplied Jensen’s own mind and experience.

Jensen’s breath hitched. The were-cat was naked; a young man’s body stretched out, as if in languid greeting. Golden skin, marred with raised pink welts, stretched over miles of muscular firm flesh, and a round, pert ass. From the base of his spine, a tail extended, smooth furred and elegant, like a house cat. It twitched and brushed the back of long, coltish legs.

The light wasn’t perfect, but there was more to see than from the cheap seats of the show ring. Jensen couldn’t see any surgical scars or trickery. The tail looked real.

A large hand patted the edge of the bed, with long, human fingers and slim, curled claw-like nails. Jared rolled on his back with his legs splayed wide, tipped his neck and rubbed pointed, velvety cat ears against the sheets. He licked his wide, pink lips and purred, as if in invitation, but his muscles gave him away. They were tensed for flight or fight, and with no escape he trembled in submission, his pink-flushed cheeks betraying his fear and humiliation.

Jensen sat awkwardly and took off his coat, careful to leave it close at hand. He could hardly look at the bed, or at Jared, and the were-cat seemed to sense his unease. Jared got up and knelt on the bed for him, awaiting instruction, his head tipped curiously. The chain rattled again, and the noise made Jensen shudder. No animal should be kept like that.

He should get on with it, but he wasn’t sure what would happen next. Jensen unbuttoned his shirt, changed his mind, and turned to hug Jared.

Jared startled and scuttled, with a hiss, to the other side of the bed, with his back against the wall. After a minute of staring at each other in shock he whimpered and reached under a pillow to produce a selection of condoms, as some sort of peace offering, which he held in an outstretched hand, while he eyed Jensen warily.

Jensen’s mood sank. The circus was busy, Jared’s chain was sturdy, and trust was not going to be easily earned. He usually had infinite patience to calm a skittish animal, but he didn't have time on his side. The were-cat’s abuser was watching and Jensen suspected that being seen talking to Jared would have him ejected. Still, a no-talk rule meant that Jared could understand him. He simply had to be creative. He made sure he faced away from the window, crooked his finger at Jared at smiled.

“Come here. I want to stroke your ears.”

Jared crawled to him, with dipped gaze and trained humility. It made Jensen want to shout and punch somebody, but he couldn’t show it. He curled his fist briefly and bit his tongue.

Up close, Jared was a big gentle kitty. He bumped his head into Jensen’s hand and let him curl his fingers into thick soft hair. Jensen closed his eyes and stroked through it. He rubbed where the head seamlessly joined the silky ears, and they flicked forward when he tickled the longer hairs at the edge. The sensation was comforting and sensual, and Jensen wanted to bury his face into Jared’s hair, and stay there. Instead he cupped Jared’s angular chin, raised his face and kissed him on his wide, warm lips.

Jared’s mouth parted and he kissed back, his tongue rough against Jensen’s, and pushed his body into his space, bare chest, to bare chest.

Jensen finished the kiss and trailed his lips over Jared’s chin and down to his neck, where the collar was cold and ugly against his mouth. He nosed through hair to nibble Jared’s ear.

He whispered as he kissed, “Ssh. Not going to hurt you, kitty. I’m here to help you.”

Jared hummed, a nervous noise. He reached to Jensen’s zipper and unfastened it as Jensen’s exploration of his neck and shoulders continued. His hand was hot, dry and practiced around Jensen’s cock as he eased it out and jacked it from his balls to the very tip, and Jensen arched his back and shivered. He didn’t want to enjoy this, but his body begged to differ.

“We can get you out if these people are hurting you.” Jensen couldn’t help the moan at the end of his words. He bit his lip, but it didn’t stop his cock from chubbing in Jared’s hands.

There was no answer from the cat. He wouldn’t meet Jensen’s gaze, and he shuffled away, with a shake of his head, and then pushed Jensen to the mattress to lick a stripe over his chest.

“Oh, God!” Jensen couldn’t help his exclamation. Jared’s tongue was like wet sandpaper and the effect was undeniably erotic over the erect pink nub of his nipple.

Jared’s face was blank as he worked, with expert fingers, hands and lips, and each time Jensen opened his mouth to speak, to stop him, it made the cat tremble and shake his head. In the end Jensen gave up his mission and let his hands travel over the young body. He caressed his skin gently, and took the opportunity to mentally catalog the bruises, bites and welts he found there. He traced his mouth over the evidence of abuse and kissed each mark, but as his mouth finally licked wet and hot over Jared’s flaccid cock, he was pushed back and Jared knelt between his legs, with his brows knitted in worry. The were-cat didn’t have to speak for Jensen to understand that Jared’s own pleasure was forbidden.

Jared cleared his expression and dipped his head down. Jensen wondered where the hell Jeff was, and whether there was an escape route through the wash room, but Jared’s collar and chain, the locked door and watchful jailer was enough evidence to know that there wasn’t. He let Jared continue, and the were-cat’s mouth was sinful around his cock. His clever fingertips knew the map of his most sensitive places, and his throat fluttered as he swallowed. He looked up at Jensen from between his legs, and his face was innocence, charm and mischief and his hair was pure silk to grasp and tousle.

When Jensen was hard and dripping pre-come Jared turned around, dipped his face to the mattress and presented his ass, but his dick was limp, and his hole was red and puffy with use. Jensen felt sick at what it implied, but Jared’s panic returned when he delayed fucking him. He tried harder, rolled on his back, presenting himself with legs wide, and hips undulating. Jensen’s cock twitched, but he knew he couldn’t take what was on offer.

Jared’s eyes filled with tears and his long nails clawed at the bed. He chewed his lip and looked in terror, toward the window. His voice, when he spoke, was timid and low, and it wavered with emotion and self-disgust, “I know I’m used and ugly.”

Jensen relented. “No, you’re too beautiful for this. Let’s just finish what we were doing,” he whispered.

Jensen shut up and prayed for Jeff to hurry. His mind warred with his conscience and his conscience warred with his mission. This was wrong, on every level, and yet he couldn’t risk alerting the circus pimp or panicking Jared any more than he had.

He knew he shouldn’t enjoy it, but every touch was sublimely erotic, in a way he had never known, and it kept Jared calmly focused, as if sex was so familiar, it enabled him to disappear into his head. Maybe it did, but Jensen didn’t know much about psychology and was finding it increasingly difficult to think about anything other than his eager dick.

Jared’s ears twitched as he sucked Jensen, and his tail wagged lazily. His hair trailed wonderful, soft and tickly over Jensen’s abs and balls, and the combination of a deep purr and rough tongue was insanely delicious. The pace was unhurried, deep and sensual, and Jensen held back, determined not to thrust hard into his mouth. It became more difficult with every slide of hot mouth, and curl of rough wet tongue. Jared licked with expert long strokes up the length, and little swirling movements around the tip of his cock and into his slit. He used his hands to cup Jensen's balls and tease them with the very edge of sharp claws; just enough to spike arousal at the danger of it, but not enough to leave a mark. Jensen gave in to sensation, lust and need. He writhed and moaned and begged for more and he couldn’t delay the inevitable for long. He withdrew, only just in time, with his senses overwhelmed by his whole-body sparking sensation and, a _holy fuck, so good,_ _so toe-curlingly_ _good_ orgasm.

It must only have been seconds, but he regained his senses with the greyed vision of Jared licking the mess from his fingers, like a kitten discovering cream. He realized with a jolt that he hadn't used a condom, and looked guiltily to the barred window, but he couldn't see Jared's keeper.

A blast of cold air, a muffled shout, and a thump woke Jensen from his worry, and Jeff was suddenly beside them, a whirl of activity, wielding bolt-cutters, and throwing Jensen’s coat at him.

Jensen didn’t have the chance to issue a warning to him. Jeff was flung across the trailer by Jared’s strong arms, and he banged into the wall with a thump. Sharp nails clawed Jensen’s face, as the were-cat flailed and attacked them both, drawing blood that dripped into his mouth. There were feral growls, snarls and hisses from Jared and the chain clanked madly as he twisted and turned in it, in danger of throttling himself.

The noise was going to attract attention that they didn’t need. Jensen had to hope the music of the Big Top would cover it, but he needed to calm Jared down. “Fuck, Jeff! I hope you got the van close,” Jensen growled, dipping back from Jared’s assault and grabbing a syringe from his pocket.

“Shit! If he doesn’t want to come, leave him. I’m not on the clock here.” Jeff sounded annoyed.

“He’s frightened.”

“He’s a lunatic, and he’s not your problem.”

Jensen dodged Jared’s claws and sank a hypodermic into his neck with practiced ease, “I'm making himmy responsibility. There.”

“Did you just sedate him?” asked Jeff with a hint of disbelief.

Jensen looked behind Jeff at the huge shape of a man lying at the base of the trailer steps, “Did you just drop the pimp, Jeff?”

“I couldn’t distract him, and you were, well …y’know…close.”

Jared’s snarls ceased. He sunk back onto the bed with a whimper, and his eyes closed. Jensen stroked his hair. “Poor kitty.”

Jeff’s mouth sagged open, “Is that creature real? You didn’t honestly have sex with…,”

“Shut up! Yes. I think so, and I didn’t have a choice.”

The chain cracked loose with the bolt cutters and Jensen wrapped a sheet over Jared before heaving his head and shoulders up. Jeff took his feet and they struggled in the dark spaces of the showground before they reached the perimeter where Jensen’s van was parked, with its “Animal Welfare” logo hidden by bushes.

Jensen made Jared comfortable on blankets in the large animal cage at the rear, checked his vitals and then locked the door.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jeff suggested, still wheezing from the effort of carrying the were-cat, “Where are we going?” he inquired, as an afterthought.

“Well, he’s no kid, so it’s not for child services.”

“I can’t take him into the station. We didn’t have a warrant.”

“Besides, you punched a guy. You’d lose your badge,” finished Jensen, glancing at the police officer and friend by his side. “No. You were right. He’s my responsibility.”

“You can’t take him to the shelter, Jen. The circus is going to be up in arms at their attraction being stolen. You didn’t wait for a warrant either.”

“We couldn’t wait. Tonight was the last show. They’d have been out of jurisdiction before we got a signature. Besides, he doesn’t need a whole new media circus, with pictures and scientists and people staring. He _understands_ , he has emotions, he can speak. In remote tribes it is a legend that native Americans would adopt cat-children as their own, and they were revered as gentle healers.”

“Where then?”

“Home. I’ll take him home with me.”

Jeff dabbed a tissue to Jensen’s scratched face. “Are you crazy? After what he did?”

“You think this isn’t a regular occurrence? It’s what I do Jeff. Frightened animals strike out when they’re scared.”

“From what you’re saying, he’s more like a damaged young man, or he’s a were-thing. That could be harder to deal with. He could eat you.”

“He won’t eat me. None of the legends describe were-cats as vicious, they’re not like werewolves. I’ll be careful. Besides, he’s…” Jensen struggled to find words, “I think he’s something special. I want to help him. I want to get to know him.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t let it get complicated. Y’know what I mean, and don’t let him out until he’s safe among people. I don’t want to have to shoot him.”

Jensen pulled into his drive and the garage door opened at the touch of a button. He parked and checked the back of the van. Jared was curled up, still asleep on the blankets. He looked pale and young with the collar hanging heavy and ugly around his neck.

Jensen huffed. “I’m going to do this.”

Jeff helped him to dress Jared in old pajamas and Jensen couldn’t help his fascination with the soft tail that they cut a hole to accommodate, or the lilting purr which vibrated from Jared when Jensen ran his fingers through his hair and over his ears.

Jensen prepared sandwiches and soup for when Jared woke, then moved the furniture in his spare bedroom and put a large animal crate in there for Jared. He could stay in the crate until Jensen was sure he felt secure enough to move into the room without attacking anybody. He needed Jared to realize too that he no longer had to perform for anybody, and he didn’t need to run, or return to the circus. It was likely to be a difficult transition to make.

Jeff had coffee and went home, still trying to process the realization that he had kidnapped a real, live were-cat from the circus.

Jared began to stir, and despite his training and experience with animals, Jensen slipped the lock on his crate and opened the door, to lie beside the were-cat, gently stroking his hair and rubbing his smooth velvet ears. There was something oddly soothing in the action. The adrenalin and tension left Jensen, and before Jared's eyes opened, he was asleep with his head by Jared’s shoulder. He wasn't aware of the way which Jared curled into his warmth, or the soft, healing licks that soothed the bloody scratches on his cheek. He only knew that when he woke, with a start, the crate door was open.

He cursed his own stupidity loudly, only to hear a scamper and a whimper that came from the rear of the crate. He turned toward the noise.

Jared peered back at him through strands of long messy hair. One ear was cocked up, and the other flat, as if in fright at Jensen's outburst. He cowered against the very back of the crate, with his knees tucked up under his chin and his tail wrapped around his legs. His hands were raised, with his claws a glinting threat, and it was impossible for him to take up any less space than he did.

Even now there was something supernaturally beautiful about Jared.

Jensen breathed a sigh of relief. Okay, well, the were-cat hadn’t run away. It was something to build on, and Jensen had never given up on any creature. He knew that whatever happened, he wasn't going to give up on Jared.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~~end~~

 


End file.
